The Chicago Symphony Orchestra is concluding its current season with a
festival devoted to the works of Dmitri Shostakovich, with Msistislav
Rostropovich presiding at the cello and on the podium.  There is an air
of historic event about the festival, given Maestro Rostropovich's close
personal connections with the composer, and the fact that the concert
programming was actually designed by the composer himself, as preserved in
a private note to Rostropovich.  Last night, by joining the "Rush Club,"
I was able to join an officially sold-out crowd at Symphony Center to
hear Mr. Rostropovich play the First Cello Concerto, with CSO associate
conductor William Eddins on the podium, followed by a performance of the
Thirteenth Symphony, "Babi Yar," led by Rostropovich, with Sergej
Aleksashkin as the bass soloist.

Although I have heard him conduct on two previous occasions, and once
almost accidentally hit him in the face while opening the door of the
Juilliard library, this was my first live encounter with Rostropovich
the cellist.  I come away from the experience with one word -- line.
There is an intensity and depth about his approach to music through his
instrument which is striking and absolutely absorbing to hear and watch.
In particular, the second movement was an object lesson in the art of bel
canto.  (The duet between the cello and celesta was particularly haunting.)
He doesn't fuss with the score, trying to do something "new," or
"expressive;" instead, he plays from the heart with great simplicity.  One
senses a total connection between his heart, ears, and technical apparatus.
This was not frivolous Shostakovich; the performance had an edginess about
it, coupled with a keen appreciation for the work's ironic, even bitter
qualities.  The soloist's complete command of the score allowed him to keep
the ensemble tighter than it might have been otherwise, and the orchestra
provided solid support, with absolutely magnificent horn solos from Dale
Clevenger.

Having heard it once in concert, I wish I could immediately go back and
hear "Babi Yar" again.  The B-flat major tune which closes the symphony
continues to wend its way through my consciousness as I write this monring.
The whole struck me as a wonderfully constructed and coherent work, which
in its five movements never once had me at less than full attention.  The
Yevtushenko texts, chosen by the compsoer, struck me as a moving humanist
and deeply Russian credo, which gave me as much insight into Shostakovich
as anything I've read.  (Incidentally, the program notes for the festival
have an anti-Volkov bias to them, featuring an essay by Laurel Fay and an
interview with Rostropovich in which he criticizes "Testimony," based in
part on what he sees as erroneous statements in the book about the
relationship between Shostakovich and Prokofiev.) Rostropovich the
conductor can be tremendously effective in this kind of music, as I recall
from hearing him conduct the Shostakovich Eighth Symphony two seasons or
so back.  On this occasion, his sense of pacing, climax, and color seemed
absolutely right, even though there were a few moments of less than stellar
ensemble, particularly in the duet for solo violin and viola at the very
end of the score.  The chilling, ominous atmosphere at the beginning of the
fourth section of the score, "Fears," was truly special.  Mr.  Aleksashkin
was clearly suffering, either from a cold, or from the notorious effects
of northern Illinois's allergenic environment, to which I can personally
attest.  He tended to go off his voice in the music's softest and lowest
registers, but still conveyed the full range of the text with authority,
backed up by the solid contribution of the Chicago Symphony Chorus men.

Both works were greeted with vociferous standing ovations, and on
receiving both, Rostropovich responded by diving into the orchestra to
acknowledge, bear-hug, and kiss most of the principal musicians on both
cheeks.  (Watching him in action gave me the brilliant idea that there
is a PBS special which is just waiting to be made, with "Peter and the
Wolf" conducted by Rostropovich and narrated by Roberto Begnigni.  Anyone
with influence out there who might be willing to get it to happen?)
Rostropovich's last stage acknowledgement was perhaps the most touching --
he walked to the podium and lifted the score of the Thirteenth for the
audience to see, and then stepped back and applauded it, along with his
departed teacher and friend.

The festival, which began with the First Symphony and excerpts from "Lady
Macbeth of Mtsensk," continues through June 12 with the First Violin
Concerto (with Vengerov), the First Piano Concerto (with Constantin
Lifschitz and Adolf Herseth), the Tenth, Ninth, Fifth, and Eleventh
Symphonies, plus other orchestral and chamber works.

DPHorn, glad to have been there.